


now or never

by saddermachine



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Copious Amounts Of Swearing, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, it ain't that romantic, neither are good at feelings, not v surprising lmao, that sounds really romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 11:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddermachine/pseuds/saddermachine
Summary: doyoung and taeyong are roommates.was it fate that put them together?if so, fuck you fate.yours sincerely,two roommates who most definitely aren't hopelessly in love with each other.





	now or never

"I can't believe you made me do that.

"Listen, it was about fucking time. We have one small dorm room and half a bathroom and all that was taking up an entire shelf. A shelf we could've been using for uh- books maybe. Y'know like every other fucking person on this planet."

Doyoung and Taeyong were standing in front of a clothes donation container. It was 2 am in the morning and a harsh, biting wind was whipping through their thin pyjama trousers and unsuitable bomber jackets. Streetlights were flickering and the clouds were racing each other across the starless sky. All of this would have been a lot creepier if it weren't for the loud thumping EDM music that was pouring out of a house near the end of the street and the giggling groups of girls and boys milling around in front of it, stereotypical red cups in their hands and alcohol on their breath. ("It's like they don't even consider how those cups harm our environment" Doyoung had muttered as they walked past the house on their way to the container. "They're frat kids, Doyoung. What the fuck do you expect?" Taeyong had replied with the appropriate eye roll.)

"I can't believe you made me do that," Taeyong whispered.

"You don't even wear snapbacks anymore," Doyoung pointed out and Taeyong turned to him, eyes wide open with a look of panicked realisation and annoyance. "That's not the point. Do you know how much those were worth?"

"No, and I don't care."

"I could've sold them!"

"Too fucking bad."

Taeyong turned back to the container wringing his hands. Doyoung was getting really tired of this, it was fucking freezing and Taeyong looked like he was about to cry because of his precious hat collection.

"By all means, climb in," Doyoung muttered under his breath.

"Fuck off. Let me say my goodbyes," Taeyong snapped back (ha) and stepped towards the container and laid a hand on the cold metal.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Doyoung exclaimed and started to walk away only to change his mind three steps in and walk back again because he couldn't very well leave Taeyong alone near a house full of drunk frat boys when the latter got scared from a spider clearing its throat.

"You done?"

Taeyong took a deep breath and removed his now trembling hand from the freezing container. "Yeah," he croaked and Doyoung sighed, very reluctantly draping an arm around Taeyong's shoulders and leading him away from the offending container.

A few minutes of silence later Doyoung asked, "What is that sound?"

"My freshman-self crying."

Doyoung sighed again, "Okay then."

 

* * *

 

"What are you doing," Doyoung asked as he walked into their room, letting the door fall shut behind him.

It was two days after the container incident. Two. Whole. Fucking days. That's a long time and Taeyong still wasn't over it.

"I'm mourning," came the muffled answer.

Doyoung dropped his bag on the floor and toed off his shoes. "It's been two days," he said, walking over to his own bed and flopping down. Taeyong was lying on his stomach, arms at his side and his face squished into his pillow. One tuft of his black hair was sticking out and Doyoung fought back against the urge to pat it down. Admittedly his hair looked really soft so who wouldn't like to do that. Right?

"I went to the container after class."

Doyoung decided not to dignify this level of patheticness with an answer. Unperturbed by Doyoung's judgemental silence Taeyong continued, "And it was empty."

"How- wait, how did you know it was empty?"

Taeyong rolled onto his side. There were imprints of the creases from his pillow on his face. "I knocked on the container and it sounded hollow. I'm not stupid."

"Could've fooled me," Doyoung said and laughed as he caught the pillow Taeyong flung in his direction.

"Fuck you," Taeyong hissed and flopped onto his back.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Doyoung bit back and got up to use the bathroom. He missed the slightly pinkish flush on Taeyong's cheeks.

 

* * *

 

The cafeteria was as crowded as ever, but Doyoung and Taeyong had still managed to procure their usual spot from a gaggle of easily frightened freshmen. They were alone for once. Hansol was stuck in a rehearsal and Johnny and Taeil had gone outside of campus to have their own little lunch date.

Their table was close to the entrance and service area, but also far away enough so that they could talk about the different people that came in without having the risk of being heard. Taeyong sat with his back to the entrance and Doyoung sat opposite him, beady eyes darting over the messy queue that was slowly forming.

"Oh oh, Mr I-was-born-in-this-adidas-tracksuit just came in," Doyoung said, not taking his eyes off the senior as he pushed his way through a gaggle of freshmen who were looking for a place to sit.

When no reaction came from Taeyong's side of the table Doyoung tore his eyes away to peer at his roommate. Taeyong normally liked to take part in these games (although he pretended not to like it), but today his gaze was downcast and sulky.

Doyoung, not being a completely heartless being, nudged Taeyong's bowl with his knife. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Taeyong looked up, blinking a few times and Doyoung rolled his eyes. "You're all sulky and depressing. What happened?"

There was a pause as the words seem to register in Taeyong's brain. "One of them was a special edition," he said finally.

Doyoung stared at him. "What."

"One of the hats, dumbass," Taeyong snapped.

Doyoung stabbed his fork through a shrimp and threateningly pointed it in Taeyong's face. "You're fucking kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding or this shrimp is gonna find a new home in your eye socket."

Taeyong glared at him and flicked the shrimp off Doyoung's fork. They both watched in muted dread as it flew down the length of the table and landed in the midst of a group of sophomore boys and girls who all screeched and leapt up in horror.

Both Doyoung and Taeyong ducked their heads and busied themselves with their food, Doyoung curving his arm around his plate so that they wouldn't see that he had a salad that included shrimps in its recipe.

"Karma will get you for that one," Taeyong mumbled through a mouthful of fish soup.

"Oh yeah, because I threw the fucking thing," Doyoung whispered with a snarl.

"If you hadn't threatened to stab me in the eye that wouldn't have fucking happened," Taeyong pointed out, jabbing his spoon near Doyoung's eyes.

Two of the boys that had been part of the group they had inadvertently attacked, marched past and they both flattened themselves against the table. Admittedly the two boys looked pretty burly and 100% ready to kill whoever threw that undercooked shrimp. Someone had apparently knocked over their bowl in their mad scramble to escape the Wrath of The Shrimp and neither Taeyong or Doyoung were particularly fond of the idea of dealing with a gaggle of hysterical teenagers and two footballers on the warpath.

"Well, I can't believe you're still sulking because of the fucking hat thing."

"They were snapbacks and yeah so would you if-"

"I highly doubt that for some reason," Doyoung interrupted.

"-if one of them was a special edition that cost nearly $60!"

"Jesus fucking Christ. Seriously?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding," Taeyong asked, putting his spoon down so forcefully that both their trays rattled.

Doyoung squinted at him. "I can't tell, there's too much fucking bullshit on your face."

"I could've sold them!" Taeyong half yelled half snarled and Doyoung took the precaution of leaning away slightly, just in case he suddenly decided to throw the remainder of his fish soup at him.

"Why didn't you do that then?"

"Because I was attached," Taeyong muttered, some of the anger being replaced by a shade of embarrassment.

"Well too fucking late. That ship has sailed and is now permanently lost in the ocean of good riddance."

"I actually hate you."

"Ah c'mon," Doyoung whined, leaning forward again. "You weren't wearing them anyway and now some kid in Eastern Europe, Africa or North Carolina will get a special edition hat. Isn't that kinda worth it?"

Taeyong's glare lost some of its fire and Doyoung had to fight down the annoying urge to squish his cheeks. It took so much effort his hands actually clenched into fists on the table. "Don't you feel freer? We have a whole shelf now, imagine how many non-hat related things we can put on that shelf," he continued. ,

Taeyong's glare returned full force. "Get fucked," he growled.

Doyoung shrugged passive-aggressively, "If you want to be a bitch, be a bitch. I don't care."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They glared at each other.

 

* * *

 

"I mean how fucking childish is that?" Doyoung exclaimed. "It was a fucking hat collection, not his newborn child!"

"Yeah, you've said that," Hansol answered in a toneless voice, squinting down at his laptop with his hands hovering over the keyboard.

Doyoung ignored the monotone sarcasm in his friend's voice and kept on pacing. "He's been sulking for an entire fucking week. A whole week! And then after the cafeteria thing, he won't even talk to me anymore."

"Uh-huh," Hansol hummed.

"I just can't believe he won't talk to me because of a fucking hat collection and I mean under the circumstances I'm allowed to be a little salty right?"

"Right," Hansol said not listening.

"Right. Give him a taste of his own medicine and all that. It's just so childish of him and I'm like, seriously dude? You can't get your shit together so that we can talk this out, like, I don't know, adults do? Honestly, he's so fucking annoying, like, every time I try to strike up a conversation he does that stupid look, you know what I mean, right?"

"Yeah."

"Right? That stupid I'm-so-hard-done-by look, y'know the look that makes him look even more anime-dreamboat-y than usual. And, like, I can take a certain amount of his shit, like his stupid fucking phases of 'I have to clear everything up the moment you put something down' or when he stays up at the library for way longer than actually necessary and then calls me at fuck-you o'clock in the morning because he's scared of walking around campus alone in the dark. Also, that thing he does when he's nervous like before exams and shit, like, the amount of times he's bitten his nails down to the point his fingers start bleeding is way too high. And he has dry hands, I mean what kind of shitty combination is that?"

Hansol looked up from his laptop, brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you know that he has dry hands?"

Doyoung froze mid-pace. "Okay this was a one-time thing and just so you know I did not initiate it and I was the first to let go because uh? Ew?"

"Okay?"

Doyoung blushed and Hansol actually closed his laptop. "Okay?" He repeated more urgently this time.

"We watched 10 Cloverfield Lane together."

Doyoung paused, not so much for dramatic effect than for the fact that he was incredibly embarrassed.

"Yeah and?"

"Oh for fucks- we were in his bed and-"

"WHAT."

"It was a one-time thing okay? A one-time fucking thing, never happening ever again. Ever. It was after finals and we were in a friendly-ish mood and neither of us wanted to go to a party so he- I repeat he, it was his idea- asked if I wanted to watch a movie with him and I was like, hey fuck it why not? And I mean we only have our laptops and his is bigger than mine-"

Hansol snorted and Doyoung stomped his foot. "Are you fucking 12 or what?" He yelled and Hansol held up his hands in surrender a grin still firmly fixed on his face.

"Anyway. So we were on his bed and watched the movie and, like, it was night and dark and that movie is fucking scary as shit man, so what was I supposed to do, huh? He grabbed my hand at a jump scare, not me, he did and I noticed he had really really dry hands. That's it. That's the story."

"Didn't let go though, did you?" Hansol smirked.

"That's not the point."

"Uh-huh."

Doyoung glared at him. "The point I'm trying to make here is that Taeyong is the most annoying piece of shit roommate I've ever had to deal with. He's childish, nags like a fucking grandmother and just- just annoys me so much."

"I think you forgot the 'I have a hopeless crush on him and am stuck in the purgatory of denial' bit."

"I didn't and I don't and I'm not. I hate him. He's just so-" Doyoung twisted his hands in the air and Hansol's eyebrows disappeared behind his fringe.

"Sure Jan," he drawled and Doyoung let out a frustrated snarl.

"I hate him," he repeated.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Fuck you."

 

_(Same time, different location)_

 

"I mean if you've met him you'd know how fucking obnoxious he is-"

"I have met him. We're friends, remember," Taeil replied, glancing up from his laptop to Taeyong who was pacing around Taeil's living room like a caged tiger.

"Yeah okay, but you don't have to live with him. Honestly, I have never in my entire life met someone who grates my nerves like he does. And it's not just that. He's so inconsiderate sometimes, like, mainly the snapback thing, but also sometimes he comes barging into our room with Hansol or Jaehyun when I'm trying to study and I kindly ask them to leave and it's always 'just go study in the library or something'. Then I do just that and then I end up staying there for ages and- and you know how much hate walking around campus at night right?"

"Mhm? Oh yeah."

"Yeah, so I'm there till like 12 o'clock at night and he kicked me out so he might as well fucking walk me back, right? Because I am not walking across campus in the dead of night alone. No fucking thanks. And then when he comes to pick me up he whines about me studying at the library, which is like? Uhm, excuse me? You're the one who fucking sent me here. It's almost like he fucking does it on purpose."

Taeil nodded absentmindedly.

"Did you know that he's a noisy sleeper?"

"I didn't-"

"Well he is and it is the most annoying fucking thing. It's not even normal sleeping noises, like snoring or whatever. No, he has to be fucking extra and groan in his sleep. I mean what the shit? Who the fuck groans in their sleep? And then I can't sleep and in the morning I'm like 'hey could you maybe sleep on your side or something because it's keeping me up' and do you know what he says every fuckin' time I bring this up?"

Taeil sighed.

"Every time it's just-" Taeyong cleared his throat and put on a high pitched voice, "'buy earplugs or something, it's not my fault you're so sensitive'. I mean, can you get more inconsiderate than that? And most of the time it's not even normal groaning, like, what the fuck are you doing."

Taeil looked up at him with a 'are you fucking serious right now' look, which Taeyong didn't see because his back was turned.

"And he sings in the shower, which admittedly wouldn't be so bad by itself but when he does it at 6 o'clock in the morning when I have late classes it's my number one reason to wanting to brutally murder him. Like, he has a really pretty voice, I'm not denying that, because it's really, really pretty and honestly I could probably listen to him talk for hours on end, but at 6 o'clock in the fucking morning I want nothing more than to rip his vocal cords out of his throat."

"What the fuck."

Taeyong paused his pacing, "Okay, that's maybe a little brutal but-"

"Not what I meant."

Taeyong whirled around, "What?"

"You could listen to him talk for hours on end?" Taeil asked, eyebrows raised.

Colour flooded Taeyong's cheeks. "Listen," he started, "he has a really nice voice, like, who wouldn't like to hear a person with a nice voice talk forever? And it's not just when he sings, his talking voice is really nice."

Taeil waited for Taeyong to elaborate and he did, cheeks still coloured in a faint shade of pink.

"He talks a lot when he's tired, so when he picks me up from the library it normally starts with whining and nagging and then he trails off into other stuff, really useless stupid stuff actually and he just rambles for the entire way back to the dorms and it makes me sleepy. But the good kind of sleepy, y'know?"

"Sure."

"Did you know he grabbed my hand when we were watching a horror movie together?"

"I have so many questions," Taeil breathed, staring up at Taeyong who had resumed his pacing.

"I honestly didn't mark him down as the type to hold someone's hand when scared, but I guess I was wrong. It was so funny though because he was like hardcore in denial the morning after. Also, I regret watching that movie with him on my bed, because he uses a really weird body lotion and I can't get the smell out of my pillow. It's like cinnamon but mixed with citrus and mint which is just a super weird combination and it makes my nose itch."

"Weren't you going on about what an inconsiderate dick he is?"

"I am."

"Have you listened to yourself?"

"He got rid of my snapbacks!"

"Didn't you throw them in the container?"

"Yeah, but it was his idea!"

"But you agreed to it."

"It was late and I was tired."

"That's not even a good excuse. Taeyong, come on- you didn't even wear them anymore."

"That's not the point!"

"Then what the fuck is?"

"He's being a complete and utter dick about it. He's the walking definition of the word smug and he's not even doing anything with the shelf space!"

"That's it?"

"Well, you don't have to deal with him on a daily basis."

"But is all of that really worth giving him the silent treatment for a whole week?"

"You don't know what it's like!"

"Dude, I spend almost every day around you two, if anyone knows what it's like then it's me since you two are about as observant as a pair of toddlers."

Taeyong spluttered indignantly, but Taeil ignored him. "Listen, drop the silent treatment bullshit. It's not doing either of you any favours. Talk it out and maybe you can come to some kind of agreement."

"But-"

"Tae, pull yourself the fuck together and be the bigger person."

"But Taeil listen-"

"No no, you listen. As much as I love our weekly 'Why I Hate Doyoung' sessions this is getting stupid. I recommend you go for a nice long walk, think about your feelings and come to the conclusion that wow, holy crap you might actually have a really weird messed up crush on said roommate. Then you walk to the dorm, drop the stupid fucking silent treatment, talk shit out and then confess your undying love. How does that sound?"

"I hate you. And him."

"I'll stop buying you lunch if you don't do it."

"Fuck you."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong was sitting on his bed, legs crossed and laptop delicately balanced on his knees. Notes, books and a frankly frightening amount of markers were scattered around him. The only light came from his laptop screen. Rain was clattering against the window but Taeyong was blocking out the sound with some good old Arctic Monkeys, his fingers tapping against the keyboard in time with the music.

Doyoung was standing outside the door. Not on purpose, he didn't want to be there, but he had forgotten his keys and Taeyong was doing a brilliant job of ignoring his insistent knocking. Also, he was dripping wet, his jeans and pullover sticking to him like a gross, overly clingy second skin. He'd only popped out for a second to get something from the convenience store just outside of campus and of fucking course just as he was leaving the store it started pouring it down. They didn't even have what he had been looking for.

"Taeyong fuckin' open the door." This was probably the 346th time Doyoung had uttered those exact words and Taeyong was still stubbornly glaring at his screen, deliberately turning the volume up.

Doyoung swore loudly (loud enough for Taeyong to hear it over Alex Turner crooning huskily through the speakers) and kicked the door, doubling over as a bolt of pain shot through his toes. Taeyong grinned.

"Say please," he finally yelled over the music and the swearing outside the door stopped immediately.

"What."

Taeyong turned the volume down. "Say please and I'll consider it."

"Taeyong I'm drenched and freezing, just open the door and stop being a petty piece of shit."

"Wow, do you spell 'please' differently in the country of assholes?"

"TAEYONG!"

"Say please."

"No."

"Die then."

"I hope you asphyxiate."

"Still doesn't sound like 'please' to me," Taeyong sneered and turned the volume up again.

Doyoung growled at the door but didn't try to kick it again. Lessons learned and all that. Sighing, he flopped down on the unforgiving tiled floor, carefully avoiding the puddle he had created and put his head in his hands. A headache was starting to throb behind his eyes and he was hungry. A small, pathetic part of him wanted to just say that stupid fucking please and crawl into bed forever, but that part of him was very, very small and the rest of Doyoung would never allow it. Another smallish part of his mind, the practical and reasonable part, suggested that he should go around the corridor and maybe ask for some food or something, but Doyoung ignored that too. It was late and Doyoung didn't really know anyone. He'd rather just suffer in silence.

Maybe Taeyong would grow a heart and let him in after all.

 

It was getting on for 3 o'clock in the morning, Alex Turner had long since bid his goodbyes and the only sound still steadily present in around the dorm building was the steady pitter-patter of the rain and the distant rumble of thunder. Doyoung was leaning against the door, knees pulled up to his chest in a vague attempt to conserve some of his body heat. His teeth were chattering and the headache was pounding away behind his closed eyelids, making a peaceful night's rest a faraway dream. He was 99% sure that he was coming down with a cold and the ugly, petty being that lived somewhere underneath his heart reared its ugly head in delight.

 _'That'll teach Taeyong a lesson'_.

It was a really ugly thought and Doyoung was almost ashamed that it was the only thing keeping him sane at that moment. This was the first time they'd talked since their spat in the cafeteria and it wasn't what Doyoung had planned. Admittedly he didn't actually have a plan, but if he had it definitely wouldn't have included this. He'd been meaning to break the icy wall of silence between them for several days now, but every time it just ended with him staring at Taeyong from the safety of his bed and his courage would get beaten back down into his stomach by that ugly little beast that lived underneath his heart.

 

"Jesus _fuck_ -"

Doyoung hit the floor with a muted thud, his head landing on Taeyong's shoes. Taeyong, like every other human being in this kind of situation, leapt back and Doyoung's head thudded against the floor. The headache that was already pounding in his temples increased by a tenfold and Doyoung managed a painful groan, his throat screaming in protest as the sound made it's way past his vocal cords.

Everything was annoyingly bright and even in Doyoung's more than pitiful state he still managed a hollow curse as Taeyong's face materialised above him.

"Are you okay?"

Under any other circumstances Doyoung would've happily roundhouse kicked Taeyong into the sun for asking such a stupid question, but Doyoung couldn't even kill an ant in his current state so that wasn't happening anytime soon.

"No," he rasped instead and Taeyong's worried frown took on a touch of remorse. "Shit."

He then disappeared from Doyoung's limited field of vision and Doyoung was left squinting up at the ceiling. His entire body felt like it was slowly but surely setting itself on fire and the threshold of the door was digging uncomfortably into his lower back. Taeyong suddenly reappeared again and Doyoung tried for a glare, but his attempt fizzled out, because who knew Taeyong looked like a scared puppy when worried. Doyoung hadn't known and fucking wished it would've stayed that way because now he was going to die of a cardiac arrest instead of pneumonia.

"You're gonna have to work with me here," Taeyong muttered and grabbed him by the armpits and dragged him inside. Both hoped silently that no one saw this- whatever this was because Taeyong was certain that he looked like a murderer who was trying to hide the body of his latest victim. And judging by their general history (a history the entire dorm building was all too familiar with) someone would see Doyoung's limp body being dragged into their room and make a very wrong assumption.

One of them had finally cracked and murdered the other.

After Taeyong had successfully pulled him into their room and gently placed him back on the floor he hurried off to close the door, before any nosey neighbours (aka that Japanese jock who lived across the hall and was entirely too invested in their non-existent loving relationship) could peek in and make it the gossip of the day.

"Are you okay?" Taeyong asked again as he materialised above Doyoung, wringing his hands in worry.

Doyoung blinked up at him and then slowly and deliberately shook his head.

"Okay okay- uh...right." Taeyong turned on the spot, looking around desperately as if the walls of their room were going to be of any help.

Doyoung sighed audibly and pulled himself up onto his elbows, pain exploded behind his eyes and he took a sharp intake of breath. After the pain had subsided slightly he croaked, "Bed. Floor not good."

Taeyong sprang into action immediately and Doyoung mentally kicked himself for letting his heart do a little flip as he bent down and tried lifting him up, his fingers digging painfully into the sides of Doyoung's ribcage.

"Nononono- bad idea," Doyoung exclaimed and Taeyong let go with a relieved huff and Doyoung sat down hard.

"You're heavier than I thought," Taeyong panted.

"Fuck you," Doyoung muttered half-heartedly.

"Can you stand?"

Doyoung glared down at his legs as he slowly started pushing himself off the floor, the muscles in his calves and thighs quivered and he wobbled visibly. Taeyong darted behind him and helped lift him fully to his feet. Dizziness washed over Doyoung like a suffocating wave and Taeyong's grip on his waist tightened as he drooped forward, knees threatening to give out.

"Please don't faint," Taeyong pleaded quietly.

"I might. Just to piss you off."

"Fuck you."

Doyoung chuckled softly and immediately regretted it as his head swam and the dizziness was replaced with a bout of nausea.

Taeyong tried to steer him toward his bed but Doyoung resisted, his stomach was churning violently and black was creeping into the edges of his vision.

"Stopstop I'm gonna-" He clapped a trembling hand over his mouth and Taeyong gasped loudly, "Don't you dare fucking throw up."

"Can you shut it?" Doyoung hissed through his fingers and Taeyong actually fucking back hugged him, resting his chin on Doyoung's shoulder.

"I'm sorry just please don't puke, like seriously, I'll do both our laundry for the next month if you promise not to puke."

"Deal."

They stood there for a while longer, Taeyong still firmly attached to Doyoung's back and Doyoung would be mad but it was low-key (high key) the only thing keeping him from falling flat on his face.

"Your clothes are really damp," Taeyong said at some point and Doyoung rolled his eyes even though he knew Taeyong couldn't see it.

"That's what fuckin' happens with rain and not being able to change," Doyoung whispered.

"Whispering will make it worse," Taeyong muttered, completely gliding over what Doyoung had just said.

"It's your fucking fault in the first place," Doyoung snapped and the weight of Taeyong's head on his shoulder disappeared.

"I'm sorry."

"Get fucked."

"Doyoung listen-"

"No no, fuck Tae, I just wanna sleep. I don't wanna fuckin' listen to your half-assed apologies right now, okay? I just want to sleep."

Taeyong seemed reluctant but the grip on Doyoung's waist went from a backhug back to just two steady hands keeping him upright.

"Okay," he said and left it at that.

Actually getting Doyoung into bed proved a lot more difficult than both of them had imagined. Mostly because Doyoung was now running a fever and kept threatening to pass out. Also his voice had finally given out so the only way he could communicate was through violent arm waving which incidentally made him really dizzy.

When Taeyong had steered him close enough to his bed he just kind of tipped Doyoung forward and he went crashing down onto the slightly rumpled bedspread. He lay there for several minutes whilst Taeyong awkwardly hovered next to him.

Finally, Doyoung mustered enough strength to crawl his way up to the headboard and roll around onto his back.

"You can't sleep like that," Taeyong said, gesturing at Doyoung's damp clothes.

Doyoung glared and shook his head. "No fucking way," he whispered and Taeyong scowled, "Look, you can't stay like this. You need to put on dry clothes."

"How?"

Taeyong blushed and Doyoung wanted to kick himself in the face. "I could- I, uh, don't...know."

"Great."

"Okay, look how about I help get your shoes off? That's not- that's not weird right?"

"Just do whatever. I don't care."

"Right. Okay uh-" Taeyong knelt down and carefully started untying the laces of Doyoung's still decidedly damp Vans. "I'm sorry, y'know," he said after he slid the remaining shoe off Doyoung's foot.

"Shut up."

"Doyoung I-"

"Dude, seriously. Please, just drop it for now."

Taeyong huffed, frustration obvious in the set of his jaw, but he dropped it much to Doyoung's relief.

"Look," he said after he'd stuffed Doyoung's shoes with whatever scrunchled-up paper he could find in the trash and put them underneath the only radiator in their room. "-not to make this any weirder than it already is, but you need to take your clothes off."

Doyoung's eyes snapped open and he fixed Taeyong with a disbelieving stare. The tips of Taeyong's ears were taking on the colour of an overripe strawberry and oh my fucking God why are annoying people always so attractive.

"Fuck no."

"I'll look away," Taeyong was practically pleading now and in hindsight to what had happened yesterday the ugly little monster in Doyoung's ribcage gave a satisfied grunt and disappeared again, for now at least.

"I-" Doyoung made the mistake of meeting Taeyong's wide-eyed, pleading gaze and any resistance that was still left in him crumbled with a pathetic whimper. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Doyoung nodded and said, "Shirt. Can help. Jeans fuck no. Look away."

"Okay," Taeyong said and without so much as a hinted fucking warning crawled onto Doyoung's bed, towering over him whilst Doyoung stared up at him in a state of hazy shock at the sudden switch of height difference.

"Sit up."

With a bunch of hushed profanities slipping from his lips Doyoung gingerly lifted himself up. His vision swam and Taeyong managed to steady his swaying form by grabbing him by the shoulders. Doyoung was caught in an uncomfortable limbo of wanting to shake him off and pull him closer.

"Arms up," Taeyong said, letting go of Doyoung's shoulders to demonstrate what he wanted Doyoung to do.

The next few seconds past by way too quickly for Doyoung's sluggish brain to keep up with, but suddenly he was sitting on his bed with Taeyong kneeling over him and with his shirt nowhere in fucking sight. He would've blushed if he wasn't already coloured an unhealthy pink-ish colour. Taeyong, however, had no fever to hide behind and his ears, cheeks and the back of his neck flushed a burning pink colour and he averted his gaze. Doyoung wanted to punch and kiss him because all of his emotions apparently came as a package deal now.

It was probably the fever talking anyway (hint: it wasn't).

"Jeans now," Taeyong said and panic flooded Doyoung's nervous system like the scary-big-brother version of a Tsunami and he momentarily relied on his right arm not to fail him now as gestured wildly for Taeyong to get the fuck off his bed. Taeyong practically fell off the bed.

"I'll be- I'll be over here." He said gesturing towards the bathroom. "Yell- ah no that doesn't- that doesn't...uh- hit the wall when you're done, alright?"

Doyoung nodded and Taeyong hastily retreated into the bathroom, leaving Doyoung alone with a new problem called Damp-Skinny-Jeans-And-A-Fever-Hazy-Human. After 15 long minutes, several hoarse shouts of frustration and Taeyong mistaking Doyoung hitting his knee against the wall as his sign to come in again, Doyoung finally managed to extract himself and fling them across the room.

Taeyong apparently heard the damp slap as they hit the linoleum floor because called, "Safe now?"

Doyoung nodded until he realised Taeyong couldn't see him and croaked a hollow, "Yes."

By the time Taeyong had cautiously slipped out of their tiny bathroom Doyoung had managed to pull most of the quilt over himself and was feeling a little more human and sane.

He watched as Taeyong aimlessly pottered around the room for awhile, hanging up Doyoung's discarded clothes and unnecessarily straightening books and papers on their shared weird-double-desk hybrid.

"What classes do you have today?" He asked, finally turning around.

Doyoung extracted one hand from the comforting, but also suffocating warmth of his cocoon and pointed at the timetable that hung next to the weird Monthly Doggos Calendar Taeil had given him for Christmas.

"I'll call in and tell 'em you're sick, okay?"

"Thanks." Doyoung croaked and Taeyong shot him an apologetic smile.

"And then I'll call in sick as well and get you some fucking chicken soup or something."

"What?"

"I'm gonna take care of you," Taeyong said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it wasn't since they had gone two and half weeks without talking to each other.

Doyoung stared at him, for once in his life stunned into literal silence.

"Great." Taeyong smiled, his phone already pressed to his ear. "I'll be back in no time."

 

And Taeyong kept his word, much to Doyoung's and probably his own surprise.

Four whole days he cancelled as many classes as he could to stay in their room and look after Doyoung, who was basically a walking corpse. Four whole days of Taeyong laying damp flannels over Doyoung's forehead and ordering either Hansol, Johnny or Taeil to look after Doyoung whilst he disappeared for long-ish periods of time to cook Doyoung some fever-and-cold reducing food.

As the days went on and Doyoung started to feel better and the periodic trips to the bathroom became less and less draining, the bags under Taeyong's eyes kept growing. Doyoung, during those four days, often fell asleep at weird times of the day or night and he'd more often than not wake up to Taeyong slumped over his desk or curled up with his quilt on the floor next to Doyoung's bed.

They talked more, and more cordially than they had in ages. Taeyong would migrate from his desk to the foot of Doyoung's bed with his laptop and do his assignments there whilst Doyoung ate cough sweet after cough sweet.

"Y'know I didn't actually mean it when I said I'd do your laundry for a month, right? Taeyong said on the third day, comfortably curled up on the foot of Doyoung's bed with a blanket and his laptop.

"I didn't throw up though," Doyoung pointed out and Taeyong visibly floundered.

"Do you know how many goddamn clothes you go through in a month? I'm not subjecting myself to that kind of fuckin' torture."

"Okay, first of all, you can fucking talk. Secondly, you promised and I expect you to keep that promise."

"No."

"Dude. I didn't throw up."

"You do realise going to the laundromat every two seconds is expensive."

"You promised though."

"Doyoung," Taeyong whined and Doyoung made a face and flicked a cough sweet wrapper at him.

"You promised!" Doyoung insisted loudly, wincing slightly as his throat complained.

Taeyong glared at him and Doyoung cocked his head and narrowed his eyes in a very 'try me bitch' kind of way. He didn't miss the way Taeyong's ears flushed and his gaze flickered down to his hands resting, dormant, on the keyboard of his laptop. Doyoung didn't miss it because it was like his gaze and fluttering pulse were drawn to it and Taeyong seemed to notice too because the silence that formed between them was very far from their usual silences.

"How about we compromise?" Taeyong said and the tension bled out from between quicker than it had arrived.

"What kind of compromise?" Doyoung asked naturally suspicious.

"We do the laundry together."

In the two years, they had been living together Doyoung and Taeyong had never done laundry together. In fact, when they first ended up being roommates they avoided each other like the fucking plague, which meant Taeyong sometimes ended up doing his laundry in the middle of the night and now here they were on the brink of a groundbreaking resolution.

"I'm too sick." Doyoung pouted with a pointed cough.

"I just saw you do a full-on dance routine to _Disturbia_ , if you're well enough to shimmy to the bathroom then you're well enough to help me out at the laundromat for half an hour."

Doyoung was stumped for a response because Taeyong did have a point. For once.

"What's in it for me?"

Taeyong kicked him under their shared blanket. "Clean clothes you fucking moron." He waved at their two separate laundry bags that were filled to the literal brim, clothes sadly dripping out and onto the floor.

"Fine," Doyoung relented and Taeyong clapped his hands together, snapping his laptop shut and sliding out of the bed.

Doyoung watched him stretch with the abstract attention of someone who was trying not to look at someone else's butt. "What are you doing?"

"Laundry. C'mon lets go," Taeyong said, picking up one of the last wearable hoodies that was lying around and pulled it over his head.

"That's my hoodie," Doyoung noted, trying his very best to sound unconcerned and uninterested. It was easier said than done however because the hoodie was already kind of big on Doyoung, but Taeyong practically drowned in it.

Taeyong looked down at the sleeves that reached way past his fingertips and waved them a bit, before reaching up and flipping the huge hood over his head. "Let's go."

"What am I supposed to wear now?" Doyoung whined once he'd managed to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

"You've been wearing the same ensemble for the last three days I don't think one more day will kill you," Taeyong muttered and threw Doyoung's only semi-warm jacket at him.

"Am I gonna get that hoodie back?" Doyoung asked after he'd pulled the jacket on and put on a pair of not-waterproof shoes.

Taeyong flapped the sleeves experimentally and then shook his head, "Nah, not likely."

"Great."

Fuck pretty people in oversized clothes. It wasn't fair.

They grabbed their two IKEA sized laundry bags, money, cough sweets and, in Doyoung's case, a pair of headphones and stepped out into the hallway.

"Why are we doing this at 11 o'clock at night," Doyoung asked as they made their way through the empty-ish hallways.

"Because I have class tomorrow and I have nothing to fuckin' wear."

 

The campus was as deserted as one would expect of a college campus at 11 o'clock at night. Loud drunken screeches echoed occasionally through the clumps of shrubs, benches and the occasional tree. The few street lamps that were scattered around the place illuminated small groups of young, absolutely shitfaced college students huddled around various benches.

A girl in what looked like a ball gown stumbled past them just as they were about to leave campus and literally rawr'd at Taeyong, who returned it with a confused thumbs up. Doyoung glared at her till she was safely out of sight.

Their pace quickened when Taeyong turned his face up to the dark, cloudy sky and said, "It smells like rain."

Doyoung made a sound like a particularly pissed off cat and grabbed Taeyong by his oversized sleeve and dragged him along at a pace that would count as flat-out sprinting for anyone under 5'5. But running with two heavy IKEA bags proved to be a lot more difficult than Doyoung had anticipated and they ended up half tripping half running down the largely empty streets.

Breathless laughter filled both their lungs as they raced each other across a zebra crossing, the bags bumping limply against their calves as they ran. Doyoung's hand never loosened it's grip on Taeyong's sleeve even when they raced each other, which was kinda stupid, to be honest, but Taeyong never complained.

They practically fell through the door into the laundromat, still decidedly out of breath and with laughter still falling loosely from their lips.

Doyoung's throat was killing him and all that running probably hadn't been the best idea, but no amount of scratchy pain in his throat could get rid of the stupid smile on his face as he looked at Taeyong who was doubled over with his hands on his knees, wheezing either out of laughter or because his lungs were refusing to do their job.

It was surreal really, what had happened in the last couple of days. They'd gone from awkward roommates, to "frenemies", to not talking at all, to going to a laundromat together and actually _enjoying_ each other's company. Doyoung could hear Hansol and Taeil sighing in exasperation from here and he popped a cough sweet into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid.

Doyoung found the nearest bench that was lined up with a wall whilst Taeyong pottered around in the search for detergent and other laundry related things.

"How long is this gonna take?" Doyoung asked once he'd settled down, head tipped back against the wall and legs splayed out in front of him to give the screaming muscles in his calves a break.

His heart stopped momentarily as Taeyong's gaze dropped down to his exposed throat, the look in his eyes was weird. Doyoung had never seen it on him before, but it was gone before any false hope could climb its way into his chest.

"About an hour or so."

"Are fucking with me?"

"'fraid not." Taeyong lugged their laundry over to the washing machine directly in front of the bench Doyoung was sitting on and started piling laundry onto the unopened machine.

"Need help?" Doyoung yawned.

"Nah, it's okay."

"Okay."

After he'd successfully stuffed two washing machines full, pushed a few buttons and twiddled a few dials, the two machines finally coughed to life with the enthusiasm of old racehorses forced to run one race too many.

Taeyong flopped down next to him, leaving not even an inch of space between them. Yeah, admittedly the bench wasn't very big, but still. They were pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, knees knocking together as Taeyong shifted around until he found a comfortable position.

Doyoung huffed a breath that was supposed to sound annoyed but sounded a little more breathless than he had intended.

"You comfortable there?" He asked as Taeyong started shifting around again.

"No."

Sighing, Doyoung let his head droop to the left until it collided with the cool metal of a washing machine stacked on another machine.

"I'm gonna lean against you," Taeyong informed him after a moment of silence.

Doyoung watched him out of the corner of his eye as he hesitantly arranged himself against Doyoung's side, his head finally dipping to come to rest on Doyoung's shoulder.

"Comfortable?"

"Your shoulder's bony."

"Oh, like you can fucking talk."

"My weight matches my height. Unlike someone, I could mention."

"No it doesn't, you need to eat more."

"I eat enough."

Doyoung blindly reached out and poked Taeyong's side through the floppy material of the hoodie. Taeyong yelped and swatted his hand away.

"I could feel your ribs."

"That's normal."

"It most certainly fucking isn't- listen, when I'm well again we're going on a food spree, okay?"

"Like we have time."

"We'll make time. The holidays are coming up."

Taeyong sighed and apparently gave up on fighting the point, choosing instead to yawn and wriggle closer. The rain outside kept up its irregular beat and the two washing machines in front of them whirred happily, the sight of the colourful contents being tossed and spun around having quite a mesmerising effect on both of them. It was a comfortable, warm half silence. Taeyong's very real and very human warmth at his side was grounding, but also made him feel slightly lightheaded.

A good kind of lightheaded though he reluctantly admitted to himself and linked their arms under the pretence that Taeyong's pointy elbow was doing his arm in. Which it was, but that wasn't the point.

"Didn't you take headphones with you?" Taeyong asked after about 10 minutes of pleasant silence. His voice was lower and softer than before, obviously having adjusted to the general ambience of the room.

"I did," Doyoung confirmed, manoeuvring their linked arms slightly to remove the tangled wires from his pocket.

"The music better not be shit," Taeyong said as he snatched the headphones out of Doyoung's hands to untangle them and Doyoung did him the favour of pretending not to notice the way his breath hitched a little as their fingers brushed.

The elderly woman that came in about 20 minutes later didn't even try to hide her smile at the sight of the mass of the two boys who sat, squished together, on a bench like a soft, unidentifiable pile of limbs and oversized clothing.

 

* * *

 

"He's awful." Doyoung griped, dramatically throwing his backpack down on the library table and dropping into a chair.

Taeil barely looked up from his book, "Look who's back among the living."

"I hate him."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Doyoung spluttered indignantly and held his homework up in front of his face when Taeil calmly pointed out that he was going red.

 

_(Same time, different location)_

 

"He's awful." Taeyong declared as he sat down next to Johnny and Hansol in the campus coffee shop.

"He back up and running again?"

"Yes. I hate it. I hate him."

"Took care of him though, didn't you?" Johnny smiled.

"That's different!" Taeyong hastened to explain.

"You're blushing."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Only when you stop lying to yourself."

Taeyong sulked the entire time they were there and literally, everyone on the planet ever looked at the camera like they were on the office as his face lit up like a suburban neighbourhood on Christmas eve when Taeil and Doyoung joined them an hour or so later.

Doyoung didn't fare any better on that front and they sat through that afternoon, pointedly avoiding each other's gazes.

 

* * *

 

English Lit, contrary to popular belief, is not very exciting.

It get's even less exciting when you have a royally fucked up sleeping schedule and a pining heart.

Doyoung had both, including a custom set of dark circles and a deep, burning loathing for the girl who sat in the row in front of him and kept cracking her fucking knuckles. He had the premium package of bullshit. It was great.

The professor at the front of the class droned on about the contrasts between English and German Romanticism and he heard the person next to him groan quietly as the professor went off on a tangent about how that reflected on the stereotypes present in today's society.

Doyoung stared down at his still stubbornly empty notebook and willed himself to write something down.

He got the caption down, but that was also where his short spike of energy ended and he was left staring unseeingly at the blurred whiteboard at the front of the lecture hall.

Suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket and Doyoung swore out loud and the person next to him snorted, which- okay enough with the schadenfreude. Doyoung glanced up to see if the professor had heard the sound. Thankfully he had not and Doyoung managed to inconspicuously pull his phone out.

7 messages from Hansol winked up at him and Doyoung frowned. Hansol was not prone to spam text, especially not in a private chat, which was weird in and of itself because Hansol preferred the group chat.

Unlocking his phone he scrolled through Hansol's messages.

 **hansol** (3:56)

DOYOING

DOYOUNGGH

BOY FUCKIN ANSWER

I DON'T CARE IF YPOU'RE IN CLASS

LOOK AT YOUR PHONE

OHMVTTZCRX

DOYOUNGG

 **doyoung** (4:06)

WHAT

 **hansol** (4:07)

FINALLY OHMYGZG

I've been trying for 10 years wtf

 **doyoung** (4:07)

I'm in class

whats wrong??

 **hansol** (4:07)

your not-boyfriend

he's done something stupid

you won't be thrulled

*thrilled

 **doyoung** (4:08)

what??

                                                                                                                                                   

 **hansol** (4:08)

he's gone to a hat shop

also he's in a super salty mood

more than usual

as far as we csn tell he's pissed at you

 **doyoung** (4:10)

hwifefuzgfzwg

are you fucking with me rn

 **hansol** (4:10)

I'm not kidding when I say he was pissed

like he was in a fucking state dude

like angry tears kinda pissed

you better fix it

 **doyoung** (4:11)

wtf did you do?

what the fuck? why me

 **hansol** (4:12)

we didn't do anything that's just what he fuckin looked like when we came to pick him up

he just stormed past us like we had no chance of even talking to him

you fix it bc you're probabaly the reason why he was ugly crying like that

*probably

 **doyoung** (4:14)

what the fuck am I supposed to do

 **hansol** (4:15)

MOVE YOURSELF

c o m m u n i c a t i o n

you fucking moron

if he's crying bc of you you gotta talk it out

jesus fucking christ

 **doyoung** (4:15)

I HAVE CLASS

 **hansol** (4:15)

you have class almost every day fucking GO

 **doyoung** (4:18)

where is it

 **hansol** (4:18)

_~image attached~_

it's a great big dude bro store you can't miss it

 **doyoung** (4:19)

thanks

 **hansol** (4:19)

word of advice

 **doyoung** (4:19)

??

 **hansol** (4:20)

smooch tf out of him

420 lmao

fucking go now

 **doyoung** (4:21)

I'm disowning you

"Uhm- professor?" Doyoung said, tentatively raising his hand.

The professor turned mid-sentence to stare at Doyoung obviously displeased that he had been interrupted. "Yes?"

"Can I be excused?"

"Toilet?"

Doyoung shook his head, "Uh no, there's an emergency back at my dorm-"

The professor interrupted him, "I'm sure it can wait."

Forcing a tight-lipped smile on his face Doyoung said, "No, professor it's an emergency, there's been an accident. My roommate has...asthma and I have training when it comes to stuff like this. Please. I really have to go."

The whole class was looking at him now and Doyoung thanked all the gods above that everyone in this class was an absolute stranger, which made the chances of someone calling him out on his lie shrink to an almost non-existent percentage.

"Asthma?"

"Please. My friend sounded quite distressed over text."

The professor seemed to way up his options and Doyoung wanted to scream at him to hurry the fuck up.

"Alright, but make sure to get your work done. No excuses."

"Yes, sir," Doyoung said and was out of the door quicker than you could say 'asthma'.

Running whilst trying to get the other strap of your backpack over your shoulder is difficult; add checking your phone to look where you're actually going to the list and then you have an accident just waiting to happen.

Thankfully Doyoung was good at multitasking and he managed to get out of campus without breaking his neck. He did, however, barrel through several gaggles of freshmen and ruined a couple of study dates. (But seriously, who the fuck has study dates outside in late autumn?)

When he finally made it into the real world outside of campus he had to take a short break to let oxygen flow back into his system and to consult the screenshot of Google Maps Hansol had sent him.

It wasn't that far away. Technically; his still oxygen-deprived brain supplied and Doyoung sighed so loudly that the few people that were walking past him turned to look at him funny.

Now Doyoung was not the most athletically gifted person on the planet. He was alright at sprinting to class and he could carry a stuffed backpack for 4 hours straight without breaking a sweat, so technically, he was athletically gifted when it came to things where a certain amount of practical athleticism was required.

Long(-ish) distance running though?

Yeah, no.

His brain said _yeah, no_. His heart said _fuck it_.

The shit you do for your crush.

 

The store wasn't exactly hard to miss. A great big neon sign took up nearly all of the front of the second floor and Doyoung allowed himself a moment to feel sorry for whoever lived there because that sign was doing a great job of blocking out any natural light. That is unless the guy who owned the store lived there in which case it was his own goddamn fault. Have fun with that electricity bill loser.

The street was relatively busy, but it was a side street to the high street Doyoung had just come from, so most people weren't actually shopping but using this street as a means of getting somewhere without getting swallowed up in the hell that is any high street at 4 o'clock in the afternoon.   

Doyoung looked at the store with the look of someone with a superior taste in head attire (beanies) and sighed, dropping his dignity on the ground and started running toward the store in a flat-out sprint that would've made any PE teacher proud.

He crashed through the door so loudly that the guy at the counter actually looked up from his phone to exclaim, "Dude! Everything okay?"

Doyoung tried not to collapse, mostly for his bruised dignity's sake since the guy who greeted him looked like he had weekly dude-bro sleepovers at the gym. Also because the carpet looked like it hadn't seen a hoover in 376 years, which was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Have you seen-" he wheezed, peering up through his slightly damp fringe, "-a guy with-" another wheeze and Doyoung doubled over to nurse the stitch that was tearing up his right side.

"Have you seen a guy-" he tried again after a few deep breaths. "-about this tall," He gestured vaguely and the guy frowned, which was understandable since he was still doubled over and the height he was indicating looked like he was looking for a 12-year-old.

"This tall." Doyoung corrected, straightening up again and making a more accurate gesture of Taeyong's height. "Black-ish hair looks like a manga dreamboat. Possibly crying?"

The dude's face lit up, "That's your friend?"

"Fr- yes, we're roommates. Is he here?"

"Yeah uh, he's kinda messed up though?"

"Yeah yeah, I know. I can deal with crying it's cool. Where is-"

"No, no dude, he tripped. His knee and hands are all messed up."

"What."

"I've cleaned it all up as best I could and I made him call a friend to pick him up because he's seriously not in a good way. Nice timing, by the way, I was gonna make him try again."

"Great. Thanks for the- for cleaning him up, I came as quickly as I could."

The dude waved at him and laughed, "It's cool. Look, I put him back in the storage room. Don't take anything but your friend, okay?"

"Sounds good," Doyoung said, edging around the counter and the guy's bulky frame to get to the narrow hallway that led to the back of the shop.

"Oh, and a heads-up," the dude said, stopping Doyoung from venturing any further by grabbing him by the arm.

"Yeah?" Doyoung asked, pointedly looking down at the hand on his upper arm til the guy let go.

"You don't seem like the most...sensitive type, so uhm, just be nice I guess? It looks like he's gone through a pretty messed up break up or something so maybe drop the attitude a little."

Doyoung didn't even try not look offended. "I don't have an attitude."

"Right." The guy smiled. "Just be nice."

"You don't even know me."

"I know an emotionally repressed asshole when I see one."

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it," Doyoung snapped.

The dude laughed, "Good one. Go get your friend."

Doyoung would've slammed a door if he could, but since there was none he made do with stomping down the hallway. Not quite as satisfying but it got his point across.

When he found the storage room he momentarily thought about knocking on the door, but this was Taeyong and they'd never knocked on any door ever even if they knew that the other was on the other side. They never learned out of all the embarrassing situations that had thrown them in.

Taeyong was sitting on the bare concrete floor with someone else's jacket draped over his shoulders, which sparked a distinct feeling of something vaguely pissed off in Doyoung's gut. Jealousy, but different. Doyoung shrugged it off, it was something he'd deal with later. Right now the pitiful lump that was Taeyong was of higher priority.

Taeyong looked up when he entered and Doyoung realised with a shock that Taeyong had been _crying_. Yeah, Hansol had said that Taeyong was crying, but still. It wasn't even the pretty kind of crying, full of delicate little sniffles like you'd expect from someone who looked like Taeyong, but full on ugly-crying.

The worst part of it all was that he still looked like an acceptable human being? What the _hell_.

Doyoung's heart violently pressed itself against his ribcage in a valiant attempt to escape.

"You-" Taeyong croaked and before Doyoung could even get a word in edgewise he burst into tears (again).

Well fuck.

"Uh," Doyoung croaked and crouched down.

Taeyong's face was hidden behind shaking fingers and Doyoung reached out to pry them away. To his surprise, Taeyong didn't resist and let Doyoung direct his hands into his lap. A whole wad of skin-coloured plasters were stuck all over the palms of his hands. It was crude, to say the least, but Doyoung didn't blame the guy (much) since this was probably the best he could do.

The right knee that poked through the pre-torn hole in Taeyong's jeans didn't look any better. The other knee was only slightly scraped and bruised.

"Are you okay?"

Taeyong, even in his teary-eyed state, looked about ready to throttle Doyoung.

"Wh- what do you t-think?" He hiccuped, reaching up to wipe away any stray tears with the back of his hand.

"What happened?" Doyoung asked, bypassing Taeyong's death glare with all the grace of a fish on land.

"Tripped."

"Yeah. I know that." Doyoung gestured at his blotchy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, "But what's that all about."

"None of your fucking business," Taeyong snapped with more venom than Doyoung had expected and he didn't manage to hide the surprise on his face. Taeyong looked guilty when he caught the expression on his face.

"C'mon, I thought we were passed this?"

"Well, you were wrong."

"Look, when Hansol texted me-"

"He _what_."

"Why the fuck do you think I'm here? Anyway, that's not important right now. When he texted me he said that you were all messed up and crying, which you still are, to be honest. No offence."

"None taken," Taeyong bit back.

"No, but seriously; what's the matter?" Doyoung shifted his feet into a more comfortable position, subconsciously settling in for the long run.

"Can't I just wallow in my own pool of self-pity without you being on my ass 24 fuckin' 7?"

"Maybe a year ago, but not now you complete and utter moron. Tell me, c'mon."

"Fuck off."

"That's not gonna happen."

They glared at each other, but for both of them, there was no real heat behind their eyes. Taeyong just looked exhausted and sad and Doyoung's heart couldn't help but ache in response.

"Just let me be pathetic for a while, okay?"

"Taeyong-" Doyoung started but Taeyong cut him off.

"Why did you even come in the first place? Don't you have class?" Again his words were laced with misplaced venom.

"I excused myself," Doyoung said.

" _Why_?" Taeyong sounded genuinely confused.

 _Because I care about you,_ was what his heart offered, but that idea was quickly scrapped.

"Because from the way Hansol was texting it sounded bad, like, really bad. He spam texted in a private chat, that's how bad it was."

It was the same sentence just packaged differently. Wrapped in layer after layer of bubble wrap to avoid his heart getting shattered into one thousand-and-one pieces.

"You should've just let it be."

"No. I couldn't have done that."

There was a pause, Doyoung watched Taeyong's hands as the twisted and fidgeted restlessly in his lap.

"Seriously though, what's wrong? This seems like a very impulsive thing and, look, you may be known for quite a lot of things, but impulsive definitely isn't one of them."

"I just wanted out."

"Out of what?"

Taeyong didn't answer and Doyoung sighed.

"I was having a minor crisis."

"No shit," Doyoung muttered and Taeyong shot him a glare, again with no real heat behind it. Just resigned sadness, something that in some way got Doyoung more than any poisonous glare.

"It was just a thing, y'know, how no one's ever gonna love me or if someone does they're gonna leave and I'll die alone. The normal stuff."

"Oh," Doyoung breathed.

"It got to my head and I just- I wanted out. I couldn't fucking sit around and think about how I'm gonna die alone and unloved."

"And you went to a snapback store?"

Taeyong put his face in his plaster-covered hands.

Doyoung could sense that there was a correlation between the crisis and the snapback store, but the correlation led to a hope he wouldn't dare awaken.

Technically the correlation didn't make sense, but then what Taeyong had done had been impulsive. Actions that had bled out of piled up and suppressed emotions. It didn't have to make sense.

Snapbacks were sort of their thing. The domino block that had set this whole fucking roller coaster of emotions and bullshit into motion. The reason Doyoung was feeling some type of way and the reason Taeyong's cheeks were always slightly pink whenever Doyoung was in the vicinity. Or at least that's how Taeil put it.

So maybe the correlation was; crisis of the unloved & lovesick + The Memory Of What Kicked This All Into Motion (snapback funeral) + frustration = irrational and impulsive behaviour and spite buying of the very item that love-interest hates/item that made the person in question realise their true feelings.

So Doyoung fell victim to his own kind of impulsiveness. It was a theory he wanted to test out. A theory that could, potentially, make things very awkward or very great. There was no middle ground.

YOLO as the kids say.

"You don't _do_ impulsive," Doyoung said slowly.

Taeyong glanced at him through his fingers. "Well, I'm full of fucking surprises."

Doyoung cocked his head, a challenge in his eyes and false confidence racing through his veins. "Prove it."

Now, there are several different ways this could play out.

Taeyong could smack him with his well-bandaged hand and tell Doyoung to go fuck himself.

Or he could blankly stare and say: "What the fuck?"

 _Or_ , he could kick all of those scenarios in the face and lunge forward and kiss the living hell out of Doyoung.

Thankfully for Doyoung's heart and the frayed sanity of their friends Taeyong did just that.

Since this action was born out of impulse and Doyoung had honestly not been expecting it, the kiss was anything but graceful and perfect.

It was pretty awkward actually.

Doyoung had his mouth half open when Taeyong lunged so there was a lot more (accidental) tongue action than both of them would've liked for their first kiss. Teeth clacked together and Doyoung accidentally bit down on Taeyong's bottom lip which got him a muffled yelp and a painful jab in the ribs.

After a few seconds, they finally managed to figure it out. Doyoung was sat on the floor, legs splayed and back flattened against the wall whilst Taeyong straddled his lap in the least sexual way he could manage. Which was kinda difficult, but A+ for effort.

The kiss had fallen into something surprisingly soft. Doyoung's arms were securely wrapped around Taeyong's middle, instinctively rubbing small comforting circles there. The stranger's jacket lay somewhere on the other side of the tiny room.

Taeyong was cupping Doyoung's face with both hands, the texture of the plasters felt a little weird, but Doyoung definitely wasn't complaining. Like, at all.

"You're a fucking moron," Doyoung mumbled into the kiss.

"You're one to talk."

The shopkeeper was surprisingly chill and supportive when he found them making out in his storage room. He even offered Taeyong a discount which Doyoung turned down with a pained smile.

Taeil almost dropkicked both of them off the planet, Hansol squealed and Johnny congratulated them very solemnly.

"We're dating, Johnny. Not getting married."

"Still, it's a big step. It only took you like a year."

 

Funnily enough most of their "routine" stayed the same. Taeyong still had minor panic attacks before exam season and Doyoung would begrudgingly help him through it. Doyoung still picked Taeyong up from the library late at night and Taeyong carried on his proud tradition of clearing up after Doyoung, even stuff that clearly didn't need clearing up.

Only now these things included surprise kisses and Taeyong sleeping in Doyoung's bed instead of his own because he had exam-induced nightmares. Or Doyoung kissing him on the steps of the library and both of them almost breaking their necks because they got _too_ into it.

They still fought a lot, but the fights were silly (mostly), born out of the natural conflict of two quite different personalities. The fights that were more major normally happened during exam season when they were both on edge. No fight lasted longer than a week.

But along with the usual routine new habits and sort-of-traditions were picked up.

Laundry was a joint operation now and they'd spend the hour or so waiting, chatting, studying, listening to music and dozing. They also picked up a habit of walking to and picking each other up from classes. It made Hansol, who was blissfully single, gag every time.

Taeyong also started dragging Doyoung to his dance rehearsals which was honestly the best and also the worst thing to ever happen to Doyoung ever. _Ever_.

The changes were as sudden as they were gradual.

On the car trip home to Doyoung's parents, between the bickering and the sing-alongs and the comfortable semi-silences both of them said it. In the same peaceful silence filled with whirling snow and Christmas carols on the radio, in the same tone and with the same weight and emotion behind it.

"I love you."

They laughed at the accidental harmonisation.

"Really?" Taeyong asked after a short pause.

"I guess," Doyoung said solemnly and yelped when Taeyong kicked him in the thigh.

" _Really_?" He repeated.

"Yeah. Yeah- I love you."

Taeyong sank back into his seat, "Good," he mumbled, and then after a moment of silence, "I love you too."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> cheesy af ending you can s u e me  
> anyway i love dotae and i hope you do too  
> thank you for reading, comments/kudos etc mean the world to me so thank you!!  
> i hope you have a lovely night/day xxx
> 
> find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/saddermachine) and [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saddermachine) and if you've got any questions hmu on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/saddermachine)


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